She considered what her father might have told her, considered what Ewan had suggested, and took one final look into her heart. She wasn’t surprised to find that she had nothing but love for that man standing over there scowling at her grandfather.
And perhaps in the end, all she could do was offer him a view of a particular direction and let him decide for himself if he cared to continue on that way.
She popped up out of her chair and intercepted him before Jamie could push him more than a pair of steps from his seat. She looked at her laird and smiled.
“I’ll take care of him.”
“You will?” Oliver asked, sounding surprised and not a little unnerved.
Jamie only clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her with a pleasant expression on his noble visage. She smiled briefly at him, then turned her attentions to Oliver. He was watching her with a look of speculation on his own handsome face, as if he weren’t quite sure what she intended but he wasn’t going to stop her when he discovered it.
She looked at him, then looked at the door to the hall. He looked at the door as well, then back at her, wide-eyed.
She nodded, sending him a knowing look.
He scratched his head.
Jamie sighed, then turned and resumed his seat. Mairead glanced at Elizabeth to find her smiling, which she appreciated, ignored her grandfather who was stroking his chin and shaking his head at the same time, then turned back to the man in frontof her who looked thoroughly baffled. Perhaps more of a nudge was needed.
“There’s a doorway there,” she said pointedly.
He looked at her as if he feared for the state of her wits. “Well,” he said carefully, “yes, there is.”
She waited.
“Why does that—oh.” He shut his mouth abruptly, then seemed to consider things he hadn’t before. “A threshold,” he noted carefully.
Jamie groaned.
Mairead forced herself not to scowl at him, though that took quite a bit of effort. She instead turned a smile on the man facing her. “Indeed, there is.”
He studied her for a moment or two in silence, then he smiled, that dry smile that she had grown uncommonly fond of in so short a time, she half wondered if she’d dreamed that smile of his for years before she’d met him.
He held out his hand.
She looked at his hand, then at him. He was only watching her with what a duller maid might have called affection.
She smiled and put her hand in his.
“Very well,” Jamie said, heaving himself to his feet. “I’ll see to the handfasting, though a proper wedding would suit as well.”
“I’ll propose formally as well, my lord,” Oliver said gravely. “But with your blessing, I would like to keep her next to me from this moment forward.”
Mairead looked at Oliver in surprise, but he only sent her a glance that whilst perhaps not scorching, was full of promise.
“If she’s willing,” he added.
Mairead found both of them looking at her, along with Elizabeth and the children, and decided that perhaps for once, she could have what her heart desired.
“I am,” she said quietly. “With all my heart, I am.”
Oliver closed his eyes briefly, then smiled. She suspected he might have indulged in a fond embrace if Jamie hadn’t been in his way, but she suspected that along with keeping watch over the strands of time, her grandfather felt compelled to deal out a bit of teasing as often as possible. Her uncle Lachlan would have liked him very much.
And if Jamie pulled a lovely piece of ribbon out of his pocket, she could do no more than smile at Oliver through her tears and discreetly avoid mentioning that Oliver’s cheeks were just as damp as her grandfather bound her together with her love on the threshold of her family home.
An hour and a bit of supper later, she was standing outside Moraig’s croft with her newly made husband and wondering if he was truly as nervous as he looked. He glanced at her.
“Are you concerned?” he asked.
